


Home Early

by Oshun



Category: Swordspoint Series - Ellen Kushner
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-06-30
Updated: 2011-06-30
Packaged: 2017-10-20 21:28:07
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,074
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/217262
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Oshun/pseuds/Oshun
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p><i>Swordspoint</i> story written for the generous and enthusiastic Just Ann Now who gave me the following prompt: "There is no one like you, they never told me there was anyone like you, I had no idea, it amazes me, Richard - if I had known - if I -" But NOT with the strangling part that comes afterward, kthnx.</p><p>Thank you very much, Thrihyrne, for the initial Beta read.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Home Early

Looking at it retrospectively, the arrangement stank like week-old fish. It troubled Richard that he hadn't smelled it. In the short time Richard had spent in the Ellingham townhouse, the temperature outside had dropped dramatically. The mixture of snow and sleet had stopped hours earlier. Heaving a deep sigh, he set off in the direction of the bridge.

The man who hired him had misrepresented himself; the duel had never been intended to be fought and everyone was happy, except Richard, who felt like a fool. He hoped he wasn't getting soft. Did a softening of his heart necessarily include a softening of his wits, he wondered? But there was no use worrying about things one could not change. At least he had been paid in full. No one but the protagonists knew the facts and they certainly would not be talking.

Crossing the bridge into Riverside, the wind whipped and pulled at his cloak, but he managed to hold it securely about him. He mused that he really ought to find a warmer coat or cloak for Alec if this run of weather continued.

If one squinted and did not look too closely, Riverside itself looked like something out of a child's faerie tale set in the olden days on the eve before First Night. The tingling air burned his lungs and the frost, pure and crisp, eradicated the more pungent smells that might remind one of Riverside's tawdry present. Richard tripped on something protruding from a frozen puddle. By the yellow light of the nearest tavern, he made out a rock-hard dog turd and a well-worn ladies' dancing slipper locked in the ice. He wondered for a moment how the owner of the shoe had made it home wearing only one.

He slipped into the empty sitting room, where a fire blazed in pointless triumph. What's a little wood after all in the grand scheme of things, he thought. His purse slapped heavily against his thigh tonight in any case. He silently unfastened his sword and shed his outer garments. No need to clean the sword at least. Creeping into the bedroom where a single candle burned low, he stopped and watched Alec. Eyes closed, elegant neck extended, Alec sprawled across the bed on his back. One long white arm had been flung outside the covers, the tender underside exposed as though begging to be kissed.

"You're back early," Alec snapped, sitting up quickly, causing Richard to startle.

"And you're pleased to see me." Richard could not hold back a chuckle.

"Am I so obvious? And here I thought I was being exceptionally subtle." Alec smiled. There was nothing understated about the invitation in his smile. "Apparently, I am not. So, who did you kill?"

"No one. I was paid simply to make a point to a recalcitrant boy."

"Please, let me rephrase the question then. Who thought he was going to die?"

"Ellingham's eldest son was led to believe he narrowly escaped death tonight by offering an apology to someone he had treated poorly."

"What a shame. He deserved to die. Useless, stupid, pompous . . . oh, I see. Ellingham himself actually paid you, not the purportedly offended party. The whole thing was a sham meant to teach the precious Ellingham heir to be more circumspect in his dealings with his father's associates. Shameful waste of good coin. He hasn't the intellect."

"You know him?"

Alec stretched, arching his back. He allowed the blanket to fall into his lap, revealing the beginnings of a nest of crisp curls and showing the outline of the hardening bulge that lay beneath it. "Heard of him. But never mind that. I presume you were well paid?"

"The full fee."

"That is especially fortunate tonight, since I've used the last of the wood." Alec's accent thickened, drawing out his words until they enveloped and caressed like melted sugar as he watched Richard finish undressing. He raised his knees, leaning forward, holding out a languid hand to Richard. "I thought you didn't take that kind of job?"

"I don't. I was misled." Richard stood at the end of bed for a moment after he had removed the last of his clothing, enjoying the warmth of Alec's gaze. He crawled up onto the bed, taking hold of the outstretched hand.

"Poor Richard. Getting soft, are you? Come here. I'll make it better."

And Richard went to him. He wanted to take him to that point of babbling ecstasy, where all of the bitterness and sarcasm fell away, that incandescent moment where Alec came close to opening or breaking. It was always perilous with Alec, dangerous and addictive. Alec didn't always succumb. Sometimes it shattered and fractured him--that giving in which he longed for, demanded, and fought against in equal measure. But Richard could not resist the risk. When he succeeded there was nothing else like it.

Alec fell back onto the bed, spreading his endless coltish legs, allowing one to flop partially off the bed and wrapping the other around Richard's waist. "I am glad you came home early."

"I knew you were." Just enough light hit Alec's face to show that those emerald eyes glowed, but without a hint of the skittish glitter that Richard feared.

"Don't be smug. It doesn't suit my image of you at all," Alec said, almost but not quite managing an aristocratic snarl. "In fact, it actually . . ." Richard shut him up with a long kiss.

Alec's tiny grunts, sighs, and murmurs of endearments nearly undid Richard, but he held on valiantly. It seemed they had reached a plateau, floating beyond the grasp of the Hill, above the spires and turrets of Riverside, when Alec's long, beautiful cock pulsed hot and wet between them.

But it was Alec's words that sent Richard over the edge. "There is no one like you, they never told me there was anyone like you, I had no idea, it amazes me, Richard . . . if I had known . . ."

Richard cradled Alec, nose nestled in the crook between his neck and his shoulder, breathing in his smell of soap and sex.

"Too much. Just too much," Alec sighed bitterly.

"Can't you be honest for once?" Richard whispered, smiling. "You mean to say, 'Never enough.'"

"What are you trying to tell me? That you think I am in love with you?" Alec raised himself on one elbow, giving him a satisfyingly unsuccessful attempt at a scowl.

"You said it. I didn't."


End file.
